


Jean and Eren and the Case of the Steller's Sea Eagle

by Arlenes_family_fun (Arlene0401)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, Based on a Tumblr Post, Brotp, Gen, Misunderstandings, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 02:46:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16053827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlene0401/pseuds/Arlenes_family_fun
Summary: Jean gets his first tattoo, and because he's a good human, Eren tags along.





	Jean and Eren and the Case of the Steller's Sea Eagle

**Author's Note:**

  * For [inkfeathers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkfeathers/gifts).



> For [inkonice](http://inkonice.tumblr.com) and [attack-on-social-skills](http.//attack-on-social-skills.tumblr.com) who yelled a lot with me about [this tumblr post](http://penroseparticle.tumblr.com/post/177245309147/so-i-just-went-with-my-buddy-while-he-got-a-rib).

“Really, who chooses a Steller’s sea eagle for a tattoo motive? A _stellar_ sea eagle, that would be rad. Add all kinds of swirly stars and shit.” Eren waved a hand around his head for emphasis. “But nooo, it had to be Steller’s. Who’s this Steller dude anyway that he’s so frigging important?”

“Georg Steller. German naturalist.” Jean had his arm thrown over his eyes and forehead, and if it wasn’t excused by him having to make way for the tattoo artist, Eren might have accused him of doing it simply to be a dramatic diva.

“Naturalist? As in running around nude? That dude ran around with his dick out and they named a bird after him? Ew.”

At that, Jean actually raised his arm a bit to throw him a withering glare. “That’s a naturist, you moron. He was a German naturalist and physician, member of the Great Northern Expedition. Discovered and described a fuckton of plants and animals in Russia, northern Asia and Alaska. Along with the Steller’s sea eagle, there’s also the Steller’s eider, Steller’s jay, Steller’s sea cow, etcetera.”

Eren didn’t mind the lecture. A Jean in lecture mode was too distracted to be a whiny pissbaby, and Eren would gladly play more dumb than he was to keep it that way. He loved his best friend dearly. Really, he did. Which meant that sometimes he had to protect Jean from himself even when part of him longed to smack him over the head.

Which would have been difficult right now anyway, with the way Jean held his hand in a death grip, squeezing so tight it was bordering on painful.

The tattoo artist shifted in his seat to tackle the next part of the rib tattoo, and Jean winced. How someone who was such a wuss about pain would choose a rib piece, which was _known_ to be excruciatingly painful, was beyond Eren. Jean was pale, sweat standing on his brow, and he bit his lip so hard Eren feared he might break the skin.

Without thinking twice, he reached out with his free hand to stroke Jean’s forearm soothingly. The tattoo guy looked up, first at Jean, then at Eren. He seemed mildly annoyed, but Eren didn’t know if he was reading too much into it - the guy had a eternally constipated air about him, ever since he had introduced himself and given them a rundown of the procedure.

Just to be make sure that the tattoo guy - Levi, he had said his name was - didn’t get pissed at his sissy of a customer, Eren said: “It’s all good. I’ve got this handled. You just concentrate on your work and don’t mind this giant baby.” He continued running his hand over Jean’s arm. The repetitive movement caused his bracelet to jingle softly, and Levi’s eyes rested on the rainbow colored piece of jewelry. He set back to work, but something had shifted in his gaze, and even before he opened his mouth Eren _knew_ what was going to come next.

“You two are really close, aren’t you?” His voice was the very definition of neutral. So carefully devoid of any insinuation, judgement or curiosity it was surgically clean. His tone had been level since they had stepped into his parlor, but Eren could sense the difference, and he cringed.

He was gay, very much so, and didn’t mind people to recognise him as such. Jean however was decidedly not. And now Levi had not only mistaken him as gay, but was assuming they were a couple, which was about as far from the truth as he could get. Eren opened his mouth and closed it, unsure if he should correct the man or not.

And Jean, being the idiot that he was, chose this exact moment to declare: “Of course we are, that’s why I brought him along!”, and raise their entwined hands, and Eren didn’t know if he wanted to punch himself in the face, or Jean, or Levi for bringing this up in the first place. 

“That’s good for you.” Levi’s face softened a fraction as he continued his work, and Jean grinned happily up at Eren, totally oblivious to the dark matter of subtext which threatened to choke his friend. Who was still reeling if he should say something or not, terrified of clearing up the misunderstanding - and thus alerting Jean to the fact that it had happened in the first place - and terrified of more awkward remarks.

Despite being a straight person and occasionally a grade A asshole, Jean was no Straight Person™ but in fact one of the least homophobic people Eren had ever met. After his coming out nothing had changed between them, Jean had continued to be his best friend, hang out at his place, sleep in his bed when he stayed overnight, show affection with hugs and hair ruffling. But Eren had no idea how he might react if someone saw him as gay. Had no idea what it felt like to be unjustly seen as gay at all.

While he was still in a limbo his mouth ran on autopilot, spewing out silly nonsense like if Jean had to get a feathery companion on his ribs, why not making it a tit - snigger snigger - and coaxing Jean to flaunt his inner natural history nerd and count up every single tit in existence, from the fire-capped tit to the striped-breasted tit, not leaving out the elegant tit - snigger snigger -, the yellow-bellied tit and the bridled titmouse (“Is the plural really titmice?”). Every time Eren shut his mouth and let conversation trickle out Jean started making pitiful high-pitched whines and groans like a dying animal. Okay then - Eren would keep on irritating him, something he was so well practised in he didn’t even need to pay attention. His voice would probably be gone tomorrow, but it was worth it if it meant avoiding Jean whimpering like a toddler about to get vacced and Levi throwing him mildly contemptful glances.

After a while Jean got tired and asked for something to drink. Levi got up and returned with a bottle of water, and Jean drained it halfway before holding it out to Eren. Assuming he was supposed to store it for him, Eren stopped patting his arm - really, by now his left hand was getting sore from all the patting, not to speak of his poor squished right hand - and took the bottle, not pausing his rant about why poor Donald Duck had to go with a) a sailor shirt even though he had never done anything nautically related for his entire life, and b) with a naked butt.

He was just about to ask Jean why the fuck he was looking at him so expectantly when Jean jerked his chin at the water bottle in his hand. “Eren, drink some water.” He turned to Levi: “He never drinks enough, I always have to nag him to stay hydrated.”

Eren stared at the bottle, the words ‘drink sharing’ running on loop in his head, accompanied by a dozen alarm bells and sirens. He had never minded sharing a water with Jean, seriously, what was a little backwash between friends? But right now, with what Levi was already assuming - or at least, what Eren assumed he was assuming - he would be more sure than ever that they were boyfriends, wasn’t he? Briefly he considered clubbing Jean unconscious with the bottle and making a run for it. He and Jean - boyfriends! It was hard to decide if he should be offended on his own or on Jean’s behalf. Eren grimaced and downed the water, a delighted 13-year-old-voice in his head yelling: “Spit swap! Spit swap!”

Jean ran an approving thumb over his knuckles and said: “You’re always watching out for me, but you need to take better care of yourself, bro.” Again, Levi’s face softened a little at the exchange, and Eren felt something inside of him die. How could this idiot dig his own grave and not notice it? 

He remembered the day they first met, in kindergarten. Jean had taken his hand and shown him around, and soon they were running around outside with the other children. Idly dangling from the jungle gym by the crooks of their knees like a couple of brightly jacketed bats, they had talked about what they wanted to be when they were grown up. Jean wanted to become a politician, and then Eren had said: “I wanna be a Navy SEAL and fight all the bad guys! Pew pew!” He imitated a shotgun. Jean’s eyes went wide, and then he shoved Eren off the jungle gym, let himself drop on top of him and attempted to dislodge his arm. By the time the two were separated by the teachers, both were bawling hysterically, and no one could discern what exactly had happened, until Jean wretched out between choking sobs: “He said he wants to be a Navy SEAL!”

“That’s much cooler than a poopy politishern!” Eren hollered back.

“Eren, now please let Jean finish, okay?” One of the teachers said.

By now Jean was hiccuping. “But…. soldiers get k-killed all the… time! I don’t want Eeren to die! And, and… with a broken arm… he can’t become a soldier… and get killed!”

“Waaaaah!”

Fresh tears streamed down two snot covered faces as they fell into each other’s arms.

Jean nudging him pulled Eren out of his reverie. “What?”

“I just said to Levi that you want to get inked soon too, right?”

“Oh, yeah. When I have saved up a little more.”

“Cool,” Levi said as if the topic couldn’t interest him any less.

“And then I’m going to come along and hold his hand!” Jean laughed. 

“I mean, I should hope so.” Levi wiped off some excess ink and didn’t look up. Jean looked a little puzzled, and something inside Eren cracked and twisted beyond repair. Hysterical laughter welled up in him, and he had to bite his cheek and pinch his own arm viciously to keep it from bubbling out, because if it did he would sit here and laugh and laugh like a maniac, unable to stop. He pictured Jean returning for the finishing touch-ups a while later, without Eren, and Levi asking: “Where’s your boyfriend today?”

So he just sat there with an expression like he was trying to hold his pee in, only letting out little deflating-balloon-noises every now and again and muttering to himself. Luckily they were almost finished.

“Bro, you really have the hots for that guy, eh?” Jean asked when they were finally outside, and punched him in the arm.

“I - what?”

Jean gave him a pitiful look. “Dude, you were all weird and awkward and blushing and shit. Just don’t mess him up before my tat is finished, yah? I don’t want him to take it out on me and ink me something nasty.”

“Jean, I don’t have the hots for him. Just… ate something bad, I guess.”

“Sure, Jan. But hmmm… Eren, if you do shack up with him…” Jean let the words drift off, suddenly looking very self conscious.

“Yeah?”

“Ah man, I dunno…” He scratched the back of his head.

Eren stopped walking and stood with his arms crossed. “Come on, spit it out.”

Jean let his shoulders sag. “I just mean… if you find somebody… buddy, I really want to see you happy… but… you’ll still be my bro, right?” He looked very small and pale then. Probably coming down from his endorphin and adrenaline high, and it was in some weird way endearing. Eren smiled.

“You asshole, you’ll always be my bro.” He slung his arm around Jean’s waist, causing him to yelp.

“Don’t touch my fucking tattoo, dipshit!”

“You love me, though. Come on, I’ll treat you to a hot chocolate.”


End file.
